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Vatic Note: this is up because it covers much that has not been disclosed before and adds very much to our understanding of who and how we got here as we are today and when it all started in earnest. In the center of photo below that you can barely see, is the statue of the owl God, Molech and the ritual surrounding the event that takes place once a year, where our fortunes and future are discussed and decided.
This also gives the history of how the actual grove itself was procured, funded and started under different reasons, then where it ended up, with their initial reason for obtaining the grove being changed to include workshops and discussions on the future of the globe, world wars, pandering to their sexual addictions, ritual satanic sacrifices and child sex, etc. Then the simple early acts of male bonding, turned into satanic and occult rituals for more nefarious purposes.
Meet The Secret Rulers Of The World: The Truth About The Bohemian Grove
http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/sociopolitica/sociopol_globalelite02.htm
byAlexander Cockburn
Where’s the fashionable rendezvous for the World’s Secret Government?
In the good old days when the Illuminati had a firm grip on things, it was wherever the Bilderbergers decided to pitch their tents. Then Nelson and David Rockefeller horned their way in, and the spotlight moved to the Trilateral Commission. Was there one secret government or two?
Some said all the big decisions were taken in England, at Ditchley, not so far from the Appeasers’ former haunts at Cliveden and only an hour by Learjet from Davos, which is where jumped up finance ministers and self-inflating tycoons merely pretend they rule the world.
Secret World rulers spend a good deal of time in the air, whisking from Davos to APEC meetings somewhere in Asia, to Ditchley, to Sun Valley, Idaho, tho’ mercifully no longer to the Clinton-favored Renaissance Weekend in Hilton Head, South Carolina.
Secret World rulers spend a good deal of time in the air, whisking from Davos to APEC meetings somewhere in Asia, to Ditchley, to Sun Valley, Idaho, tho’ mercifully no longer to the Clinton-favored Renaissance Weekend in Hilton Head, South Carolina.
But comes next July 14 and every self-respecting member of the Secret World Government will be in a gloomy grove of redwoods alongside the Russian river in northern California, preparing to Banish Care for the 122nd time, prelude to three weeks drinking gin fizzes and hashing out the future of the world.
If the avenging posses mustered by the Bohemian Grove Action Network manage this year to burst through the security gates at the Bohemian Grove, they will (to extrapolate from numerous eyewitness accounts of past sessions) find proofs most convincing to them that here indeed is the ruling crowd in executive session: hundreds of near-dead white men sitting by a lake listening to Henry Kissinger.
The avenging posses may find some puzzling elements within the Grove.
If the avenging posses mustered by the Bohemian Grove Action Network manage this year to burst through the security gates at the Bohemian Grove, they will (to extrapolate from numerous eyewitness accounts of past sessions) find proofs most convincing to them that here indeed is the ruling crowd in executive session: hundreds of near-dead white men sitting by a lake listening to Henry Kissinger.
The avenging posses may find some puzzling elements within the Grove.
Why, for example, are at least 80 percent of the Bohemians in a state of intoxication so advanced that many of them had fallen insensible among the ferns, gin fizz glasses gripped firmly ’til the last? Why so many games of dominoes? Why the evidence that a significant portion of the Secret Government appear to be involved in some theatrical production, involving the use of women’s clothes and lavish application of make-up?
Many an empire has of course been run by drunken men wearing make-up.
But a long, hard look at the Bohemian Club, its members and appurtenances, suggests that behind the pretense of Secret Government lies the reality of a summer camp for a bunch of San Francisco businessmen, real estate plungers and lawyers who long ago had the cunning to recruit some outside megawattage (e.g., Herbert Hoover, a Rockefeller, Richard Nixon) to turn their mundane frolicking into the simulacrum of Secret Government and make the yokels gape.
The simulacrum isn’t half bad. For Republicans the club is an antechamber to the White House. Teddy Roosevelt was a member. So, as noted, was Herbert Hoover. In his memoirs Hoover wrote that within one hour of Calvin Coolidge’s announcement in 1927 that he would not run again,
The simulacrum isn’t half bad. For Republicans the club is an antechamber to the White House. Teddy Roosevelt was a member. So, as noted, was Herbert Hoover. In his memoirs Hoover wrote that within one hour of Calvin Coolidge’s announcement in 1927 that he would not run again,
"a hundred men - editors, publishers, public officials and others from all over the country who were at the Grove, came to my camp demanding that I announce my candidacy."
Hoover was at the Grove again the following summer, as he had been with some considerable regularity since 1911, when news came that Republicans had chosen him for their candidate.
A speech to the industrial and financial titans clustered for one of the Grove’s famous lakeside talks could make or break a candidacy. After a poor reception, Nelson Rockefeller abandoned his bid for the Republican nomination in 1964. Richard Nixon, like Hoover a member of the Cave Man’s camp inside the Grove, got a rapturous reception in 1967 and pressed forward to the nomination and the White House.
A speech to the industrial and financial titans clustered for one of the Grove’s famous lakeside talks could make or break a candidacy. After a poor reception, Nelson Rockefeller abandoned his bid for the Republican nomination in 1964. Richard Nixon, like Hoover a member of the Cave Man’s camp inside the Grove, got a rapturous reception in 1967 and pressed forward to the nomination and the White House.
It was at the Bohemian Grove that America’s nuclear weapons program was first devised by physicists such as Grove members Ernest O. Lawrence and Edward Teller - meeting with other members who were then in government, all confident of the security of the redwood clubhouse built by Bernard Maybeck (my favorite of all American architects) in 1904.
European leaders travel discreetly to the Grove to address the American elite. German chancellor Helmut Schmidt (not to be confused with Club members Chauncey E. Schmidt or Jon Eugene Schmidt) strolled its paths with club member Henry Kissinger, as did French socialist leader Michael Rocard.
European leaders travel discreetly to the Grove to address the American elite. German chancellor Helmut Schmidt (not to be confused with Club members Chauncey E. Schmidt or Jon Eugene Schmidt) strolled its paths with club member Henry Kissinger, as did French socialist leader Michael Rocard.
Where else could such men hope to chat privately with the head of IBM, a couple of Rockefellers, bankers galore, a Justice of the US Supreme Court and Charlton Heston? Even the prickly Lee Kuan Yew hastened to visit the club, only to have the mortification of being mistaken for a waiter.
The Bohemian Club began as a San Francisco institution in 1872, founded by journalists and kindred lowly scriveners as an excuse for late-night boozing. Its membership was dignified by Jack London, Mark Twain, Bret Harte and other literary roustabouts who had fetched up in the city after the Gold Rush.
The hacks soon concluded that Bohemianism, in the sense of real poverty, was oppressive.
The Bohemian Club began as a San Francisco institution in 1872, founded by journalists and kindred lowly scriveners as an excuse for late-night boozing. Its membership was dignified by Jack London, Mark Twain, Bret Harte and other literary roustabouts who had fetched up in the city after the Gold Rush.
The hacks soon concluded that Bohemianism, in the sense of real poverty, was oppressive.
"It was decided," clubman Ed Bosque wrote, "we should invite an element to join the Club which the majority of its members held in contempt, namely men who had money as well as brains, but who were not, strictly speaking, Bohemians."
So they pulled in a few wealthy men of commerce to pay for the champagne and the rot soon set in. Within a very few years the lowly scriveners were on their way out, except for a few of the more presentable among them to lend a pretense of Boho-dom - and Mammon had seized power.
There were laments.
There were laments.
"The salt has been washed out of the Club by commercialism," one writer grumbled. On his visit to the city, Oscar Wilde gazed around at the fleshy faces and handsomely attired members and remarked, "I have never seen so many well-dressed, well-fed, businesslike looking bohemians in all my life."
The final blow to the hacks came soon thereafter. Near the end of the last century the cult of the redwood grove as Nature’s cathedral was in full swing and the Boho-businessmen yearned to give their outings a tincture of spiritual uplift. The long-range planning committee of the club decided to buy a grove some sixty miles north of the city near the town of Monte Rio.
When the wheeling and dealing was over, the club owned 2,700 acres of redwoods, a grove of the mightiest of thousand-year-old Sequoia sempervirens:
"We are grown men now," a piece of club literature announced in the early 1920s, "but each year in the hard procession of our days there comes, thank God, to us Bohemians, a recess time - it is upon us. Come out, Bohemians. Come out and play!"

















